Snow!
by Candied sweets xD
Summary: No, cotton. Hong Kong takes a walk on a breezy spring day among his cotton trees. England doesn't like it. Fluffy, literally.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

"Snow!"

It's not like Hong Kong's never seen snow before: he saw plenty of it while living in England's house, as well as during those few days when he visited China's capital in the winter. More and more of his people are also going to Japan and Korea during the winter holidays to ski, so yes, he's seen his fair share of snow.

But never in his house, where temperatures rarely go below 9 degrees Celsius even in the winter, has he ever seen the snowfall. Snow? Ridiculous. Still, when he hears the exclamation, made by a young boy with his nose pressed up against the cool window of the bus, he instinctively snaps his head up and looks out the window.

Of course there is none: it is the middle of May and temperatures are hobbling at around 25 degrees. Hong Kong sighs, shaking his head at these silly thoughts, and looks back down at the book in his lap. The boy's mother quietly explains to him that it does not snow here.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

The sweet smells of _dan tat_: egg tarts, waft into Hong Kong's nostrils as he steps into the Tai Cheung Bakery*. They are a delicacy in Hong Kong, so its personification occasionally enjoys a few during his lunch break.

"M goi sai," He thanks the baker, who smiles and nods politely. Reaching into the bag, Hong Kong sinks his teeth into the soft yellow egg custard, holding a hand out to catch the falling pastry crumbs. He finds a bench and sits down to finish his dessert, then leans back and enjoys the scenery. The weather is so nice today- clear skies, white, fluffy clouds, and a visible sun. It's a relief after a whole week of rain. A refreshingly cool breeze blows through the square.

A few meters from him, an office worker utters a surprised exclamation. Heads turn to watch the lady dust a small white cotton ball from her dress, laughing sheepishly with her colleagues. Hong Kong looks up; the cotton trees are rustling, throwing the soft wisps of cotton into the wind, where they float across the sky. A smile tugs at Hong Kong's lips for a moment, before he pulls the last egg tart out of the paper bag, puts it in his empty lunchbox, and deposits the scrunched up bag in the bin.

**~.::~xXx~::.~**

The taxi pulls up to the curb and the passenger fumbles a bit with his money before stepping out and squinting in the bright sunlight. He spots Hong Kong and quickly walks over to him.

"Hello, Hong Kong. How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you," he replies.

"This is some nice weather you have," England comments, almost scornfully. Just because he never has any nice weather. Hong Kong nods before reaching into his bag to retrieve his lunch box. The Englishman raises his eyebrows in surprise before taking it in his hands and cracking the lid open.

"These certainly served Mr. Patten quite well," he states, expression brightening, and Hong Kong gives a soft "hm" in agreement. England gently lifts the pastry from the paper and begins to eat. Hong Kong does not watch him eat, instead looks around him, at the tall buildings and loud cars.

"I thought I saw some snow when I was coming here," England says when he's done. "I know it is quite silly. Of course, it was just cotton. It's everywhere. Look, there's a tree there too," He points behind the Chinese man, who turns and sees a tree, bending slightly over the road, large clumps of cotton hanging down from the branches.

"Yes, it's that time of the year when the cotton grows,"

"It's messy," England scowls, brushing crumbs from his mouth and returning the lunch box. "Like I said, it gets everywhere."

Hong Kong is a little surprised that England thinks of them this way. "They are usually very small- no bigger than dust balls. They don't bother any one… I think. Except for fussy old men such as yourself,"

"Hey! I'm not that old!"

Hong Kong smirks and barely dodges England's not-so-soft punch aimed for his shoulder. England reddens and attempts to hit him again, however, Hong Kong is already across the road, his smirk growing wider at the Englishman's frustrations.

"Get back here, bloody git!"

They run across the streets and footbridges until they reach the bus stop, panting and sweating. England swings a fist at Hong Kong, albeit lightly. Then he shifts uncomfortably in his suit and proclaims it to be too hot for this. Hong Kong is in jeans, and he agrees.

Another wind blows by and they both let out sighs of relief. Suddenly something is flying by Hong Kong's nose, tickling it slightly, and he rubs it, seeing a thin tendril of white curled around his finger. He looks up.

It is raining white, fluffy blobs of silky, snowy cotton balls surfing the breeze. There is more this time, fluttering softly against the backdrop of glass and concrete. Threads catch on other trees, bushes, signposts, decorating them in chalky ribbons. Next to him, England is clearly mesmerized by the scene. He lifts a hand and catches a clump in his hands, rubbing it between his fingertips. He catches Hong Kong's gaze and smiles. His green eyes shine. _It's beautiful. _Hong Kong grins.

"Snow!"

**No, cotton :D**

**Because the cotton tree at school started unleashing its fury on us unsuspecting students. Ah well, i****t _was _raining for the whole week. It's a nice change. **

**M goi sai means thank you. Tai Cheung Bakery's egg tarts were made famous by the patronage of Chris Patten, last British governor of Hong Kong. They have all these newspaper articles on the windows with him eating tons of egg tarts :P And they actually do taste very good xD**

**This started out as an attempt to write scenery (failure) and ended up being about England and egg tarts. ****I don't know. ****England seems OOC. I can never write him properly D:**

**Thank you for reading! :)**


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